


Gold Among the Stone

by deathwailart



Series: The Holy Sea [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Character Study, F/F, Gen, Leaving Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2446931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathwailart/pseuds/deathwailart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rajani, daughter of Zimevur, the country crushed by Castileos in the war leaves home to begin her new life as guard to queen Leandra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold Among the Stone

Rajani cries as she watches Zimevur become but a speck in the distance. It was easier to pretend before that she was only going on a trip, a visit to relatives elsewhere, a pleasure cruise, easy to pretend it was just a large family gathering and not a banquet but for the tears in her mother's eyes, the toasts to Rajani's health and luck and safety. It is tradition and like so many women before her she will serve her country proudly but she does not want to leave. She wants to stay, riding her flighty little silver horse with bells on her reins. She wants to go hawking with her family because they do not hawks such as hers in Castileos, handsome Mahdi, tan and darkest brown, tail and wing feathers tipped brilliant crimson. They don't have hounds for coursing like hers, slender and leanly muscled, red as sandstone. They must all remain in Zimevur and she wept in the kennels with them, hot breath on her cheeks as she fed them treats one last time, wishing them all goodbye, telling them to be good dogs. One last ride with her brothers and sisters and the other ladies of court, braiding that sleek white mane as she pressed kisses to her velvet nose. She watched Mahdi fly and wheel through the air, returning to her glove before she gave him over to her youngest sister, making her swear to love him. More than once she has given in to spite and hatred towards her younger sister for being far too young to go to Castileos and her eldest sister for already being married and soon to have her first child. She wept bitter tears after her sister confided in her that she was pregnant, telling Rajani before anyone else, before even their mother or her husband. Some of them will visit, so she has been told, but she won't be there to hold her niece or nephew when they're still red and squalling. None of them have been to Castileos in her lifetime. She never met the woman who stood guard to the previous queen. They call it honour when they send someone away but it's shame, she knows it's shame, considered a reminder of how low they've fallen since their days of glory, when Zimevur's empire sprawled across most of Terradeos until Castileos put an end to it.  
  
She is being sent into the open arms of Castileos, the country that became the shining beacon of all that is good and right. Even though they have pirates that their rulers continue to sanction going so far as to call them holy men, as if piracy is ever good, as if it could ever be right. They bring women with them who lie with anyone and everyone and calling it healing, daring to say holy and prostitution in the same breath and she's heard stories about how it's a profession, not just the women they call Brides but something people choose and talk about with pride. She doesn't want to go there, to live in a den of thieves and to guard a queen who allows such things.  
  
"Chin up Rajani, my beautiful girl," her mother tells her every day from when it is announced that she will go. "You are still a daughter of Zimevur, you will make them see we are a proud people, that we are unbroken. Do not let them change you Rajani."  
  
Except on the day Rajani leaves her mother clutches her sleeve to dry her tears and it's the first time she actually sees the toll this is taking on her. Her mother has been so strong the whole time, like stone, the picture of dignity and knowing that this is so much bigger than their own wants and needs. She has told Rajani just what to do, coached her through the meetings with the dignitaries from Castileos and the council of Zimevur.  
  
"You do not want to give them a poor impression of yourself and you are Zimevur to these people," she told her as she adjusted her dress so it hung in the most flattering fashion, reminding her to stand straight and look them in the eye. "Do not let them think that you're weak; you are from Zimevur, you are strong. But so many people hate and fear us still, you cannot afford to be too strong or forthright."  
  
"How will I know?" She asked, feeling too young compared to such a wise woman, especially when she looked so like her, the only daughter to favour her mother compared to the rest who took after their father. Rajani has her mother's round face, her lips full and curved like a bow, eyes of liquid gold to match her loose curls that require taming to not turn into a wild lion's mane. It's rare, to be what they call a golden one in Zimevur, to be the line of gold cutting through the stone. She even has a smattering of freckles just like her mother all across her face, darker than the rest of her light brown skin.  
  
"You are my smart girl, my brave girl, you will know." Her mother always smiled when she said it, ushering Rajani into whatever room the meeting would take place in, following her in to assess and guide her in doing better, teaching her what to listen for, what to watch for.  
  
She clutches her mother's hands as she prepares to leave Zimevur and swears not to cry where they can see as the people throw flowers and sing, their voices a rolling, swelling thing. Her heart aches. She is humbled by their love, the little boys and girls who ran from the crowd once she climbed out of her litter to tug her skirts or hold hands or presses fragrant blossoms into her open palms, beaming up with gap-toothed grins. _We want to be like you, princess princess_. She smiled at all of them, adding the flowers to the garland wrapped around her head, looped down over her throat, pink and red and orange, love and life and prosperity as the procession marched over white petals to ensure safety and peace for the journey ahead. There will be black flowers, death's poesy, for her family making the return journey to the palace without her. She wishes she did not have to travel in a litter and that she might have ridden her mare one last time to hide her tears against her slender neck and mane of silk but this is the way of things. They rode through the city and throngs of well-wishers as the trumpets sang from the tallest towers before the roads became too narrow, her father and his guards leading, Rajani one of the last with her eldest brothers bringing up the rear.  
  
"Look after Mahdi and be good," she tells her youngest sister, kissing her still chubby cheeks. "Rabbit is his favourite."  
  
"Raj-" She begins but she cannot finish, overcome by tears and having to cling to their mother's skirts.  
  
"I will send letters and gifts; the best pup from the next letter is marked for your baby," she tells her eldest sister, hugging her close, the baby kicking hard enough that Rajani feels it.  
  
"I will tell them of their aunt Rajani every day," her sister vows.  
  
"And you," she laughs through the impending tears to point a finger at her brother-in-law, "I will hurt you if you ever make her unhappy, the sea cannot stop me."  
  
"I swear I will see her happy and loved always," he promises.  
  
She continues on, closer and closer to the ship and that is where her mother clutches her sleeve and weeps, not a noble lady who must play her part but a grieving mother sending away her beloved daughter to a far-off land that was once an enemy. "Mama," she almost sobs, "I don't want to go, please let me stay."  
  
"You must, you must. I do not want this but not even stone stands untouched by time."  
  
"Don't forget me, I'll write every day."  
  
Her mother kisses her hands then reaches out to pull her close, kissing Rajani's head and cheeks, her body shaking with her sobs. "I love you beautiful girl, smart girl, brave girl. Go now. Remember all I taught you."  
  
"I will mama, I love you."  
  
At last she comes to her father, his stern face with thick brows and even thicker wave hair, ink dark like his eyes. He weeps silent tears and his hands are shaking. "Rajani you are my pride, my joy. There is no one else who could represent us before the Castileans but my heart will be so heavy with you gone. I knew this would come when I had a daughter, like so many others in this family. But when I learned it would be you..." He looks away, out to the sea and to the ship with purple sails trimmed in gold. "Always will the sky remain part in shadow with you gone."  
  
"Papa," she whispers. Her father is a wonderful but she has never heard him speak of her like this. There are his stories of Zimevur, their history, beliefs and legends but she understands that he must always give hope and pride to their people, speaking with his ringing voice as he captivates everyone, bringing each word to life.  
  
"I love you. I never told you that enough and I am so proud to be your father, look at you." She smiles and throws herself into his arms, clutching his robes. There is a clinking sound, warm metal at her throat and as she pulls away and explores with her fingertips she gasps, already knowing what it is without seeing. A lion's head, large and golden, belonging to his royal mother, the symbol of their line. "Do not forget who you are Rajani, my little lioness."  
  
"I won't papa, I love you."  
  
It is his hand that guides her to the ship, entrusting her safety to the captain and his crew. She waves to all assembled, blows kisses and proclaims her love for her country as they cast off. The sun glints on her necklace and eventually she weeps watching Zimevur disappear as the sun sinks below the horizon, the sky bruised purple until it is dark and she is escorted to her cabin by a smiling sailor with hard hands but a soft touch.  
  
The cabin becomes her refuge. Small of course compared to the room she has left behind but it smells like home, her trunks redolent from the sprinkling of dried petals through them. There are bottles of perfumes and oils packed amongst her clothes and jewellery, shoes and brushes, weapons and make up. There are many books to occupy her mind on the voyage and likely so she has something else of home in Castileos and writing materials too so she sits out on the deck on days when the waves don't make her sick and have her leaning over the side retching until everything hurts or curled in bed waiting for it to end. The crew humour her and explain everything she asks in detail so she can write long letters, one-sided conversations as if her family are here with her. The sailor that first escorted her to her cabin, a young woman her age, becomes her closest friend, each morning helping to braid Rajani's hair when the wind threatens to whip it into tangles. Her skin is darker than Rajani's but she is not from Zimevur or even Corundus, instead calling herself Asha daughter of many ports but she's someone to talk to, someone to eat dinner and dance with either to the music of the crew or the music they make themselves, humming or singing nonsense, clapping, accompanied by the jingling of their jewellery. She asks Asha to sleep in her cabin if she can, to ease some of the desperate loneliness that threatens to consume her. She is sorry to bid Asha farewell when they reach Castileos, sitting still as she helps her get ready, spinning her into her decorative silken gown, fastening the jewellery as Rajani brushes her hair until it gleams like spun gold, lining her eyes in dark paint and dusting all her skin in a powder the same shade that makes her glitter. She dabs perfume at her wrists and throat, her elbows, her knees, behind her ears, brushing it through her hair and drawing a line down between her breasts. She gives the bottle to Asha as a keepsake and kisses her on the lips.  
  
"You look like a treasure," the other woman whispers. "I could steal you."  
  
"Please," Rajani breathes, forgetting who she is meant to be. She has no desire to be Rajani of Zimevur. She doesn't care about the honour of her house or the weight of expectation. She wants freedom, would trade places with Asha in a heartbeat or sail away into the unknown with her like they're in a story with a happy ending.  
  
"Alas," Asha says sadly with a smile, fastening the lion's head about Rajani's throat. "If only it were so." Then she kisses her again, cupping Rajani's face in her hands. "You are so brave, it will be rewarded. The sea is cruel but kind too." With that she is gone, sandals slapping as two pale burly men who look to be Albasi, grim but not unfriendly, hoist her chests as though they weigh nothing, leaving Rajani alone with her thoughts and the gilded chest of gifts for Her Grace Above the Waves. She doesn't want to leave the ship, it will be real then, her new home, her new life, guarding a new queen until one of them dies. It's grief that makes her throat constrict painfully and resignation is a stone in her belly dragging her down as she carries the chest to the deck where the captain turns and smiles at her.  
  
"There she is," he declares with pride as she stares out at the cluster of islands that form the realm of Castileos. Most of them sit in a circle that spirals out from a central island, some seemingly uninhabited, others with small buildings dotting the landscape but one rises above all the rest, a teeming cluster of life that looms larger the closer they get.  "It's never quiet in Castileos," the captain continues, still smiling and she thought him to be from Zimevur like her if he is the one her father chose to see her safely to a new life.  
  
"This is your home?" She asks and he raises a hand in a gesture she knows that means yes, and no, and not quite.  
  
"I am Zimevur, born and bred but I hopped aboard a ship sailed by the Sons. I was a poor boy, I had nothing and now I am a captain entrusted by a king from the land of my birth and the queen from my adopted home." She has seen the many poor folk of her homeland, the people they fail to protect and for all those they help, even more slip through their fingers, like sand. So many of them are lost to the Sons and to Castileos and the shame of it scalds her. "This is a land of opportunity and new starts, you will see so do not look so sad."  
  
_You chose this_ , she thinks angrily, clutching the chest. _You chose a new life, this was thrust upon me. You are a captain and no longer a poor boy, I am a princess made to play guard to a foreign queen._  
  
She says nothing, merely nods and smiles, pretending to be polite as she tries to forget about the fluttering in her stomach and how sweaty her palms feel. They're close to the dock now and she tries to remember all her mother and father told her, the advice everyone threw at her but she can barely breathe and wants to cry. Instead she swallows hard and gives herself a shake. _You are Rajani of Zimevur, you are the gold among the stone and you are the pride and joy of your family and your people._ Dark grey stones steps sweep upwards when they come in to dock and courtiers clad in blue rush forward, a bustle of activity until Rajani is announced, disembarking from the ship to ascend the stairs to where her new queen awaits, her prince consort husband by her side. Her progress is slow, the steps steep and slippery beneath her and she won't fall her, she won't embarrass herself in front of them and the skirts of her dress are tight. It's going to be the last time she wears a garment such as this for a long time, she'll be wearing the uniform of a Castilean queensguard and she'll miss it, she'll miss the rich jewel tones and gold patterns, the plentiful jewellery that jingles enough to be mistaken for bells.  
  
"Rajani, daughter of their royal highnesses of Zimevur," a young voice begins and Rajani looks for the first time upon Her Grace Above the Waves, Leandra of Castileos and feels her cheeks heat. She is pretty, she supposes, golden skin and long red-brown hair falling in loose waves but where Rajani's gown is many winding layers of softest, richest patterned silk, where she glitters from her powders and wears almost her weight in gold about her person, Leandra is almost plain, her gown made of some soft and shimmering fabric the colour of sea foam and decorated with simple blue embroidery, her only jewellery several strands of pearls about her throat. She isn't even wearing a crown and Rajani is flustered and embarrassed, either overdressed or being insulted and she cannot tell what is worse. "I, Leandra of Castileos and my husband and prince consort Arsenio of Corundus welcome you to our home."  
  
"Your grace," Rajani replies, giving the formal bow of a lady of Zimevur to the queen and to her husband, extending the chest towards them, not straightening from her bow until they take it from her. "I, Rajani of Zimevur come to take my place as a member of your personal guard as decreed by ancient treaties made to bind us together so that war might never divide us again." She might as well have knives and broken glass in her mouth for the words hurt all the same. "Your life is my life, your heart is my heart and I shall give my last breath that you might live on until your reign is that of legends."  
  
Arsenio is the one who takes the chest with a smile but it is Leandra who takes her by the hand, almost making Rajani jump. "It is my hope that we will find ourselves more than queen and guard, that we might be friends and that my home will be your home."  
  
Rajani forces a smile and thanks her profusely, allowing herself to be escorted in the direction of a small boat that will take them to the palace. She looks over her shoulder to the ship that took her from her home and reminds herself that she can weep in private later.

**Author's Note:**

> How to pronounce Zimevur – Zim-eh-vur (vur as in your)


End file.
